


The Green-eyed Monster

by destielfromperdition



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, M/M, roommate au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-29
Updated: 2016-06-29
Packaged: 2018-07-14 08:40:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7162799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/destielfromperdition/pseuds/destielfromperdition
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean couldn't handle seeing his roommate, Cas, with other men. Misunderstanding his feelings, Dean worried he was being homophobic toward Cas. After nearly tearing their friendship apart, Dean realized what he was actually experiencing was jealousy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Green-eyed Monster

**Author's Note:**

> This story is based on [this](http://www.gaystarnews.com/article/straight-guy-worries-hes-homophobic-gay-roommate-ends-falling-love/#gs.QiXU2wU), and it was written for this [beautiful little faerie](http://www.the-faerie-circle.tumblr.com).

It was no secret that Dean's roommate was gay. Cas had been very forthcoming about it when Dean came to see the place for the first time. "I just want to make sure everything's out in the open," Cas had said. "Make sure you're cool with that, you know?"

Despite growing up with a single father who had very strict ideas of how a man should and should not conduct himself, Dean had been able to overcome that years ago. It made no difference to Dean that Cas was gay. 

"One of my best friends is a lesbian," Dean had replied, not really certain if it was the _right_ thing to say, but feeling like he needed to provide Cas with some sort of proof that there would be no problems. "Her name's Charlie. If you end up choosing me, I'm sure she'll come visit whenever she's in town." 

Cas did choose Dean. He had recently graduated from college, already had a stable job, and seemed to be a nice person, someone who would be easy to live with. Also, Cas had no plans to tell him this, but Dean was one of the most beautiful men he'd ever seen. Bright green eyes, a strong jaw, a splatter of freckles across his nose. Sure, Dean was straight--he'd made that clear--but it didn't hurt to have a gorgeous man living in the same house as him.

Dean had lived in another shared place when he was in college. He hadn't had any problems with that roommate, but they just sort of avoided each other. There was an unspoken agreement that they would keep to themselves and make no effort to be anything other than amicable roommates. Dean was happy with the arrangement and had expected things to be similar with Cas, but Cas had other ideas about what being roommates meant. 

From the beginning, Cas made it easy for Dean to like him more than his old roommate. When Dean was moving in, Cas took a personal day just to stay home and help him. Although, it wasn't until three days after he moved in that Dean _really_ noticed the difference. He had just come home from work, and Cas was sitting on the couch watching TV. 

"You ever seen Breaking Bad?" Cas asked.

"No," Dean replied. "I've heard it's good though." 

"This is the first episode. Probably gonna spend the rest of the night binge-watching it." Cas grabbed the remote and paused the show. "Wanna join? We could order some pizza." 

Dean surprised himself when he said, "Pizza sounds good." Cas was already spread out on one end of the couch, so Dean kicked his shoes off and planted himself on the other end. 

Six episodes later there was an empty pizza box on the floor and Dean was struggling to keep his eyes open. "I think I'm gonna go to bed," he said. 

Cas jolted and blinked his eyes rapidly. "Sounds like a good idea," he said sleepily. "I won't watch any episodes without you, if you don't watch any without me." 

Dean understood then that they had already become friends.

Over the next couple of months they learned more about each other, both the good and the bad. Cas would run through the neighborhood every evening, no matter how cold or hot or rainy it was, and often asked Dean to join him. Dean was a good cook, and liked to make dinner for the both of them. Cas always washed the dishes, no matter who dirtied them. Dean would leave wet towels on the bathroom floor, and Cas would hang them up. Cas would leave the cabinets open, and Dean would come behind him to close them. Dean would shut himself in his room and blast classic rock music or Taylor Swift, there was no in between. But neither of them was ever really bothered by any of this. Everything seemed to balance out perfectly. 

The only thing they couldn't agree on was the air conditioner. Dean's feet would get cold, so he would turn up the temperature. Then Cas would get hot and turn it back down. This went back and forth for weeks before Cas finally said, "Why don't you just put some socks on?" 

"Why don't you just take your shirt off?" Dean replied without thinking.

A smile spread on Cas' face, and he said, "You'd like that, wouldn't you?" 

Dean winked at Cas and said, "Maybe I would." He knew Cas was flirting with him, but Dean was straight. Cas knew that. Dean knew that. It was harmless.

Even so, Cas seemed a little shocked that Dean had flirted back. He stood in silence for a moment before grabbing a blanket that was sprawled over the back of the couch and tossing it to Dean. "There Elsa. Warm yourself up." 

***

Those first couple of months were easy between them. They started started running together regularly. They often made it a competition--who could run the fastest, the farthest, the most days that week. Sometimes they went to the bar down the street to watch a game and down some beers. Sometimes they would catch a movie. When they both had time, they stayed in and watched Breaking Bad for hours. Most of the time they came and went as they pleased, neither of them really keeping tabs on the other... Then Cas started occasionally bringing other guys home. They'd go to Cas' room, close the door, and that was that. Dean would never see or hear anything, but he was always overly aware of what was happening behind that door. This wasn't something that happened frequently, but when it did happen, Dean was consumed by the feeling that he didn't belong in the house. That he had to get out. 

The first time, Dean went on his second run of the day. He ran for so long that his legs felt like jello when he got back to his room. _Everyone gets weirded out when they know someone is having sex in the room next to them,_ he told himself. 

The second time, Dean called his brother, Sam, and asked him if he wanted to go to the bar for a while. They'd barely been there five minutes when Sam said, "What's up with you? You seem really agitated." 

Dean wasn't really sure _what_ was up with him. He couldn't stop thinking about how Cas was back at their house doing who knows what with some random guy, and it was making him feel what he could only describe as disgusted. But he certainly couldn't admit that. Without even saying it, he understood how homophobic it sounded. So he drank enough alcohol to ease his nerves and make him forget about Cas.

The next morning he woke up with a hangover from hell and his head in Cas' lap. He didn't remember much of what happened the night before. He remembered Sam driving him home, and Cas helping him into the house, but everything else was a blur.

When he sat up too fast, his head throbbed. Cas opened his eyes and rubbed his hands across his face as he said, "Rough night, huh?"

Dean couldn't gather his thoughts into anything that made sense. "Was I-- You were-- Why are we in here?" 

"To make a very long story short, I put you in bed, where you proceeded to puke all over yourself and the blanket within five minutes. I, um, had to help you clean yourself up, then I cleaned your room up, but it still smelled awful in there, so I put you on the couch, and you uh, just sorta passed out on me."

Bits and pieces of this started to resurface in Dean's mind. He remembered Cas undressing him... pulling his shirt over his head... unbuttoning his pants. He remembered slurring his words as he asked Cas not to leave him alone on the couch. That was all he could recollect, but that was embarrassing enough. Suddenly his cheeks felt so hot that he was sure the skin would melt off his face. "Oh god, I swear I'm not a drunk. This won't happen again." 

"It's cool," Cas said. "Just remember, if I ever come home completely shitfaced, I expect the same treatment from you. Right down to the blowjob." 

"The what!?" Dean nearly sprang off the couch, but the dizziness kept him seated.

"Calm down, man. I'm just kidding." Cas had to stop himself from laughing. "You're still perfectly straight. Or--well... as straight as a guy can be the morning after his gay friend stripped him naked and bathed him."

Dean couldn't help but laugh then, too. "Don't lie, you liked it." 

Cas scrunched his nose. "The fact that we both ended up covered in your puke really detracted from the fun of it all. I was a little busy trying not to throw up to really bask in the utter lack of sexiness."

Dean stopped laughing then. "I'm really sorry."

"Don't worry about it." Cas said. "I mean it." 

Other than the fact that Cas was never going to let him live that night down and regularly reminded him of the events that had transpired, everything was easy between them. Dean never told Cas _why_ he had gotten drunk in the first place and had pretty much forgotten himself until he was forced to remember.

The third time, even though he felt out of place, Dean was determined not to leave. He didn't want a repeat of the last time. He had more self-control than that. But the longer he sat there, the more sickened he felt. He needed something to take his mind off Cas, so he called Anna. She was Dean's "friend with benefits." Neither of them wanted a relationship. They had established that a long time ago, but every once in a while, they just needed each other, and Dean needed her then. 

She had been to the house a few times before that, for the very same reason she was there that night. As usual, they didn't bother with small talk. The moment Dean opened the door, he kissed her. Being with her, his body rubbing against another body, connecting with another person, it did take his mind off of the very same thing happening in the other room. But when they were finished, and Anna was lying in the bed next to him, Dean felt like he'd used her. Their agreement was mutual, and he'd never felt bad for sleeping with her before. But this was different. He didn't call her because he hadn't slept with anyone in a while. He called her because he needed to distract himself from how terrible of a person he obviously was. Somehow that made him feel worse than he did before he called her.

Once they were dressed, Dean opened the bedroom door to walk Anna out. Cas was sitting on the couch, alone, watching TV. "Hey, Anna," he said. 

She barely had time to reply, "Hi, Cas," before Dean was ushering her out the door.

Once she was gone, Cas asked, "Is she your girlfriend?" 

"No," Dean said, too fast and too sharp. He was still unreasonably aggravated with Cas. 

Cas held his hands up as if to surrender. "Sorry I asked."

***

Dean broke things off with Anna after that--sex didn't feel right anymore, with her or anyone else for that matter--and he never expressed his feelings to Cas. In fact, he did everything he could to keep them hidden. This was easy when there were no other guys around. Dean never felt anxious or upset when it was just Cas and him in the house. It seemed everything was back to normal. They ran through the neighborhood every evening, met Sam at the bar to pretend they cared about whatever game was on, and made it to season four of Breaking Bad. 

Once when Charlie was visiting, Dean was in the kitchen making dinner for the three of them. Cas got up from the table and put his arm around Dean's shoulders as he said, "Smells good, beautiful." 

With any other guy, this would have made Dean uncomfortable, but jokingly flirting with Cas had become somewhat of a constant in their house. So he put his arm around Cas' waist and gripped him tightly as he whispered, "I made it just the way you like it, baby." 

When they released each other, Dean noticed Charlie staring at them from the table, her head cocked to the side, eyes swimming in confusion. Dean had forgotten she was there.

"We're just messing around," Dean told her. 

"Unlike my other straight friends, Dean doesn't mind when I flirt with him," Cas said, popping the cap off a beer. 

"I can see that," Charlie said. "You two make a very convincing couple." 

"Come to think of it," Cas said with a sly smile on his face, "I haven't seen his girlfriend around in a while." 

"She was never my girlfriend," Dean said. 

"Right, excuse me. His _special friend_." Cas turned to Charlie. "You ever seen her? She's gorgeous." 

"And just how would you know?" Dean asked.

"Just because I'm gay doesn't mean I can't appreciate a beautiful girl," Cas said. "You'd be lying to yourself if you say you've never thought a guy was attractive." 

Yes, he would. Once when they were running, it was just before sunset and Cas was a few steps ahead. Dean couldn't help but watch him, the way his body moved flawlessly, almost gracefully, in the golden light, and think, _If I was gay, I'd have a crush on him_. That wasn't the last time he'd had the thought, either. There was something about those piercing blue eyes and the way his hair was always perfectly messy and how his smile was pure sunshine. He would never admit this to Cas, but the flush of his cheeks was threatening to betray him. He turned back to the stove, hoping no one had noticed. 

***

The next couple of months passed with no issue, then one day Dean opened the door and found Cas on the couch making out with a guy. Dean's stomach immediately soured. He'd _known_ Cas had been with guys since he moved in, but he'd never actually _seen_ him with a guy. He had to swallow hard to keep himself from throwing up. 

Cas pulled away from the other man and said, "I thought you were going to the bar with Sam tonight?"

"He's sick, had to cancel," Dean said, using every ounce of willpower he had not to vomit. Without another word, he retreated to his room and synced his music to AC/DC. Taylor Swift wouldn't cut it here. He needed something to drown out their voices in the living room and the thoughts in his head. That was the only way he would be able to calm himself down. 

A few minutes later, there was a knock at his door. "Can I come in?" Cas asked. 

Dean paused the music and said, "Sure." 

Cas pushed the door open and poked his head in. "He's gone." His cheeks were flushed red. "Look man, I really didn't mean for you to see that. I didn't think you'd be home for hours." 

"It's cool. No big deal." Dean's voice suggested otherwise, but he had no control over it. "It was just unexpected." 

"Right," Cas said, clearly not buying the excuse. 

By the time they were jogging back to the house that night, Dean had convinced Cas that he was worried about Sam being sick and projected those feelings onto him. He felt bad lying to Cas, but he could never tell him how disgusted he was at seeing him with a guy. Cas had never done anything to deserve that. 

A few weeks went by before Cas brought another guy home. Dean could hear their muffled voices as they shuffled through the living room and then Cas' bedroom door closed. Dean was instantly plagued by the feeling of not belonging, but this time he realized it wasn't him who didn't belong; it was the other guy. He wanted Cas' newest fling out of their house. He couldn't stop thinking about what all that guy might have been doing to Cas. The thoughts made him so uncomfortable that he felt his skin crawling. But again, he never said anything to Cas. 

***

Around the time they had been roommates for a year, Dean came home to find a guy sitting on the couch, shirtless and putting his shoes on. "Hi," he said. "I'm Alex."

"Oh yeah?" The contempt in Dean's voice was undeniable. "And what are you doing in my living room, Alex?" 

Cas came out of the bedroom, questioning Dean with his eyes, wondering why on earth he would say something like that. He moved next to Alex and said, "He's here with me." 

Dean knew that. He knew it the moment he walked through the door and that sour feeling returned to his stomach. "I guess I should get used to you parading your conquests through here all the time, huh?" 

The other guy, Alex, suddenly seemed upset. "I thought you said you didn't have a boyfriend?" he asked Cas. 

"I don't," Cas said. "He's just my roommate."

Dean felt as if Cas had punched him in the stomach. They'd been friends for over a year now. Did Cas really think of him as _just_ his roommate? 

Alex stood up from the couch and pulled his shirt over his head as he said, "Maybe I should go." 

"Maybe you should," Dean said. 

Cas closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to calm himself down. 

Alex turned and placed his hand on Cas' shoulder. "Are you good here? Do you need me to stay?" 

Watching the other guy touch Cas, it made Dean's stomach clench so tightly that he thought he might double over.

"No, I'm fine," Cas said. "He's harmless." 

Alex looked back to Dean, clearly not convinced. "Are you sure?" 

"Yeah," Cas said. "I'll handle this."

Alex kept his eyes narrowed on Dean as Cas lead him out. He apologized to Alex, then shut the door and immediately turned back to Dean. "What the hell, man? Why are you being such an asshole?" 

Dean didn't know what to say. Part of him felt terrible for talking to them the way he had, for making someone fear for Cas' safety. He would _never_ physically hurt Cas. He knew that for certain. But another part of him already felt relieved that Alex was gone, and he knew that was hurting Cas in another way. "I don't know."

"You don't know?" Cas asked. "You come in here all high and mighty, and you _don't know_ why?" Cas shook his head incredulously. "Do you have a problem with me sleeping with men?"

 _Yes_ , Dean thought, but he said, "No. It's just... I... I don't know. Maybe try not to shove it in my face so much?"

"Are you serious!?" Cas' anger was growing. "What were we shoving in your face? You've accidentally seen me kiss one guy! You use to have your fuckbuddy over here every other week! The second she walked in the door you would stick your tongue down her throat. You two didn't even try to be discrete." 

"I don't do that anymore. I broke it off with her. And it doesn't matter if I see you or not. I _know_ what's happening..." Dean sighed. He knew his feelings were completely irrational, and he hated fighting with Cas. He decided then that he was going to force himself to accept Cas doing whatever, or whoever, he wanted. "Look, I guess I'm just having a bad day. I really don't care who you sleep with. I just... I don't like knowing exactly when it happens." 

"Do you not understand-- You're-- You--" Cas clenched his fists. The anger faded from his face, but his eyes were sad, defeated. "I'm gonna go to a friend's place for a while to cool off." 

Dean wanted Cas to stay, for everything to magically be okay between them, but he didn't protest. He had no grounds to when all of this was his fault. 

Cas went to his room and came back with his shoes on. Before he opened the front door he turned back to Dean and said, "And you’ll be okay if I sleep with him as long as I do at his place and not ours, right?"

 _NO_ , was Dean's immediate, involuntary thought, but he couldn't bring himself to blatantly lie to Cas again, so he simply didn't respond. He let Cas walk out the door without saying anything.

Charlie was in town, and Cas was supposed to hang out with them that night, but when Charlie had been there for an hour and Cas still hadn't shown up, Dean knew he was blowing them off. Cas had never backed out on plans, not once. If he was going to be even a minute late, he would at least text Dean, if not call him. That's when Dean understood just how badly he'd messed everything up, and he hated himself for the fact that he still couldn't stop his thoughts from circling back to what Cas had said about sleeping with the guy he was going to see. 

"What's going on with you?" Charlie asked. "You're acting like someone just murdered your best friend. Talk to me." 

Dean didn't want to tell Charlie. His newfound homophobia had already screwed things up with Cas. He didn't want to hurt her, too. But these feelings obviously weren't just going to go away or work themselves out. He'd been friends with Charlie since high school. She was practically a sister to him. If anyone would hear him out, it was her. 

"I think something's wrong with me, Charlie." Dean suddenly felt like he might cry. All of his pent up emotions came pouring out of him like a river. "I... I hurt Cas. I didn't mean to. I don't understand what's happening to me. I get angry with him when he brings guys home. It... it just grosses me out, I guess. I can't stand knowing what he's doing, and I just want to go grab whatever random guy is in there and drag him out of our house. I've never been homophobic, Charlie, you know that. I don't understand why I am now. I tried to hide it, but recently I haven't been able to, and today I really upset him. How do I deal with this? How do I stop being such a dick to him?" 

Charlie looked like she was about to burst into laughter, which wasn't the reaction Dean was expecting. "This isn't funny, Charlie."

"No, you're right. It's not." She forced herself to put on a more serious face. "Are you sure what you're feeling isn't jealousy?" 

"What would I be jealous of?" Dean asked. "I know he has more of a sex life than I do, but so does Sam, and I don't get pissed with him. It has to be the fact that Cas is sleeping with men."

Charlie had to stop herself from rolling her eyes. "I mean, this only seems to revolve around Cas specifically." She moved over on the couch, positioning herself right next to Dean. "Would it bother you if you knew I was sleeping with a girl?"

"No, I don't think it would," Dean said. "I can't say for sure, but thinking about it doesn't bother me. Thinking about Cas being with another guy makes me want to throw up." 

"Does it bother you to see gay men on TV?" she asked.

Dean thought about it for a minute and realized it didn't. He slowly shook his head.

Charlie put her hand on Dean's back, rubbing it in small, comforting circles. "Dean, honey, you're not homophobic. What you _are_ is an oblivious walnut."

"And how's that?" Dean asked defensively. 

"You like Cas. I've been waiting on you to figure it out on your own, but if I had known you were struggling with it so much, I would've told you sooner. Every time I call you, you talk about him. And with the way you flirt with him, it's pretty obvious. You called him _baby_ last time I was here."

"But... I was with that girl in college for two years. There was a time when I thought I wanted to marry her. And I've slept with other girls since then and enjoyed it. I... I'm not gay."

"You don't have to be gay to want a man," Charlie said. "There are more sexualities than just gay and straight. Maybe you're bi. Who knows. What I do know is that you have a full-blown crush on Cas."

Charlie and Dean continued to talk for over an hour. He told her everything that had happened with Cas and how Cas had reacted each time. Charlie insisted that with the way Cas had he gotten more upset when Dean assured him he _didn't_ care who he slept with and how he had dragged Dean's former friend with benefits into the argument, it seemed like Cas _wanted_ Dean to be jealous. 

Dean steered them off of that topic pretty quickly, though. He was just beginning to accept that he did have feelings for Cas. He wasn't ready to handle the implication that maybe Cas had feelings for him, too.

***

Dean spent the next few days trying to wrap his head around everything. He would replay the last year over and over in his head. Looking back, it seemed so obvious. The jealousy, the flirting, the desire to spend time with Cas. All of it made sense now that he knew he had been repressing his feelings, and apparently his sexuality. He had apologized to Cas, multiple times, but he still hadn't been able to find the right way to explain himself. On the surface, they pretended everything was fine between them, but Dean could tell Cas was already distancing himself.

Cas wouldn't wait for Dean to go running anymore, and they had finished all of the episodes of Breaking Bad awhile back, so there was no excuse for them to stay in. Anytime they were in the same room together, Dean just couldn't find the right words or the right time to say something. What if Cas didn't actually feel the same way? What if he had already damaged things beyond repair? He was conflicted, scared of further jeopardizing their fragile friendship, but also aware that he would never be able to handle Cas being with other men, especially if one of those men became Cas' boyfriend. If that happened, Dean knew he would have to move out and end their friendship anyway. 

***

Almost a week after Dean had his revelation, he was sitting on the couch watching Kill Bill. Cas came home about 30 minutes in and sat on the opposite end of the couch. Dean took Cas' willingness to stay in the same room as him as a sign of progress. Maybe Cas had forgiven him.

Half way through the second movie, Cas spread himself out so that his feet were resting against Dean's leg. This startled Dean because Cas had been avoiding any sort of contact with him. They stayed this way for the rest of the movie, but when it was over Cas got up to put in Vol. 3. 

Dean's leg grew cold in the absence of Cas' feet. He hoped that when Cas returned to the couch, he would position himself exactly the way he had been before he got up, and then Dean realized how ridiculous that was, to desire someone so much that even having his socked-feet resting against him was tantalizing. It was then that he understood this wasn't some feeble crush that would eventually fizzle out. He cared about Cas in a way he had never cared about anyone else, and he owed it to himself to admit that. There was never going to be the perfect time or place or way. He just had to come out and say it. "Can I... talk to you about something?"

"What's up?" Cas said, walking back toward the couch without starting the next movie. 

"When I was being such a dick the other day... It really wasn't because I was upset about you being with men... At first I thought it was, but I realize now, I was being a jerk because--because I was jealous." 

Cas laughed as he sat back on the opposite end of the couch. "There's no reason for you to be jealous. It's not like you would have any trouble finding someone to sleep with you if you'd just stop spending all your time at home. You could go down to the bar right now and find a girl to bring back here."

"What if--" Dean could hardly get the words to come out. "What if that's not what I want? What if I don't want a girl anymore?"

Cas still didn't know what Dean was trying to tell him, but with how nervous Dean appeared to be, Cas knew he was serious. He sat up straight and moved himself toward the middle of the couch. "I'm not sure I understand?"

"The other day when Charlie was here... she helped me realize something." Dean was incessantly wringing his hands together. "I'm not jealous of your sex life. I'm jealous of the guys you're having sex with." 

Cas' eyes widened. "Are you saying--"

Dean cut him off. "I-- like you-- as, you know, more than a friend-- like, I think I have-- feelings for you." He was practically hyperventilating. 

Cas' confusion melted into a smile as he moved toward Dean again, leaning his knee against Dean's leg, putting his hand over Dean's hands, trying to steady him, to ground him. "Take some deep breaths." 

They sat silently for a long moment, Cas staring into Dean's eyes, Dean trying to mimic Cas' steady breathing. Finally, when Dean was able to talk again, he laid it all out for Cas, explaining all the times he had mistaken his own jealousy for homophobia. Cas laughed as he said, "I never expected you to be the jealous type." And then he had tears of laughter streaming down his face when Dean explained that the reason he'd come home so drunk that one night was because he had tried to drink away his feelings. "You tried to kiss me that night," Cas confessed. "Twice actually. Once when we were in the bathroom, and then again on the couch."

"I did?" Dean asked. "I don't remember-- I didn't-- I mean-- _Tried_?"

"I wouldn't let you," Cas said. 

"Oh..." Dean leaned back against the arm of the couch, distancing himself from Cas.

"You were drunk. Like, seventh level of hell drunk. For all I knew, you were mistaking me for a supermodel in a bikini." 

Dean couldn't help but laugh then, and he felt the tension releasing from the muscles in his shoulders. 

Then Cas admitted that all the flirting had been real, that he'd liked Dean from the first moment he saw him, and that every guy he'd brought home since Dean moved in had been an attempt at getting over Dean because he was so adamant that he was straight.

The conversation was filled with laughter out of both awkwardness and nervousness. They stumbled over their confessions and explanations. The confidence both of them usually possessed was nowhere to be found, but somehow that made the conversation seem deeper than any other they'd ever had. Neither of them were hiding anything, consciously or subconsciously. 

Finally Dean said, "You didn't let me kiss you because I was drunk, but you wanted to?"

"I did. I still do." Cas' cheeks turned the slightest shade of pink. 

Dean looked down at his hands, still buried under Cas'. "What if we tried it now?"

Cas raised his hand up to Dean's chin, running his thumb along the base of Dean's jaw until Dean's eyes met his. He waited for Dean to pull away or protest, but instead, Dean was the one to lean in.

At first, everything was soft and warm, and then Dean was running his fingers through Cas' hair, and Cas was pushing Dean back against the arm of the couch. Dean had never experienced so many emotions at once. Exhilaration, happiness, desire, but also insecurity and fear, which led to more confusion. He was worried that Cas would expect this to lead somewhere right away. His hands were shaking when he untangled himself from Cas. "I can't-- I don't think I'm ready for-- you know-- No yet anyway-- I just don't want you to think--" 

"I don't want to," Cas said. "Well, I _do_. God, I do. I mean, _look at you_. Who wouldn't want to? But I don't want to." 

Dean almost started laughing again. "And I thought I was confused." 

"I want to, but that doesn't mean I think we should," Cas said. "I don't want you to be just another guy I drag back to my room. Those guys I brought here, they meant nothing to me. They were stand-ins for the person I really wanted to be with... _You_. We should take this slow, do it the right way."

Relief flooded Dean's veins. "Cas, are you asking me to go out with you?"

"Only if you want to." 

"How about tomorrow night?" Dean said. "Maybe see a movie? Grab something to eat?" 

"All right," Cas said. "What movie?" 

Dean pulled his phone out of his pocket. "I'll see what's playing." He scrolled past the new releases until he found the ones that had been out for awhile. "What about the new Captain America one?"

"We've already seen that," Cas said. 

Dean glanced up from his phone and gave Cas a _That's the point_ look. He might not have been ready to jump into bed with Cas, but that didn't mean he wouldn't find every opportunity to kiss him again. It turned out Dean had no problem with Cas kissing guys as long as Cas was kissing _him_.

***

Dean drove to the theater. Every time they would stop at a red light, he would steal glances of Cas and realize all over again just how beautiful he was. Sometimes Cas would notice him staring and flash one of his sunshine smiles that had been making Dean melt long before he accepted his feelings for Cas. 

When they arrived, they realized they hadn't discussed who would pay. "I'm the one who asked you to come," Cas said. "I should pay." 

"I'm not making you pay for my ticket," Dean said.

"Rock, paper, scissors?" Cas asked. 

Dean hesitantly agreed, and Cas won, best two out of three. 

As they walked in, Dean said, "If you're paying for the tickets, I'm buying us something to eat after the movie." Cas agreed that this was fair.

They'd been to the movies together before, multiple times, but this time the context was different. They skipped over the popcorn and headed straight for the theater. Because they had wasted time deciding who would pay, the theater was already dark, the previews already running. This movie had been out for a couple weeks, and nearly all the seats were empty. They could have sat anywhere they wanted. Usually they would find a couple seats near the middle. This time, Dean led Cas straight to the back row. 

They sat with their legs pressed against each other--the first contact they'd had since their kiss the night before--and whispered about the previews as they usually would. Which movies they wanted to see and which ones looked ridiculous. 

When the previews ended and the movie began, Dean's realized how nervous he was. He tapped his fingers on the arm rest. They were in an almost deserted theater, on the back row, for a movie they'd already seen. There was only one reason for such a situation, but he told Cas they would take things slow. What if Cas didn't want to kiss him? What if he did want to, but he didn't live up to Cas' expectations? What if Cas decided he didn't want to be with him after all? Dean couldn't bring himself to turn toward Cas. He stared straight ahead, pretending he was entranced by the movie, unable to stop himself from tapping his fingers, and soon he was involuntarily shaking the leg that wasn't resting against Cas'. He hadn't been this nervous since his first date back in high school. 

Nearly fifteen minutes of the movie passed before Cas finally put his hand over Dean's and leaned in to whisper, "It's okay to relax."

Dean could feel Cas' breath tickle his neck. His body reacted before his mind realized what he was doing. He turned so fast that Cas hadn't even had time to lean away. Dean wrapped his hand around the back of Cas' neck and pulled him in, closing what little gap was left between them. Every last bit of his apprehension melted instantly. 

Kissing Cas was different than anything he'd ever experienced, both physically and mentally. The stubble surrounding Cas' lips scratched against his own, and Dean found this sensation to be enticing, but there was something else, something deep within in him that came alive. With every other person he'd kissed, it was very much a surface act. Skin on skin. With Cas, his entire body reacted. Chills ran down his spine, his breathing became desperate, his stomach danced, his heart raced. 

Occasionally they would come up for air, and Dean was sure their breathing was so loud that they would drown out the sounds of explosions and gunfire blaring through the speakers and attract the attention of the people sitting a few rows in front of them, but they never stayed apart long enough to see if those people looked back.

The longer this went on, the more Dean imagined getting down on his knees right there in the theater. Knowing he wasn't ready didn't stop him from wanting Cas, wanting to know every inch of him. But in the back of his mind, Dean knew that he was better off taking things slow.

The movie didn't seem to be anywhere near as long as it was last time. When the credits began to roll, Cas pulled away and said, "Great movie. Much better than the first time we watched it." 

Dean laughed. " _Much_ better."

"I'm starving now," Cas said. "Ready to go get something to eat?" 

"Uh, yeah," Dean said. "Can we just, um, wait a few minutes."

"Sure," Cas said. "Is there something after the credits that we missed last time? One of those hidden scenes?"

"No." Dean was embarrassed, but he had promised himself he would never lie to Cas again. He grabbed Cas' hand and placed it on the bulge in his pants. 

"Oh fuck," Cas groaned as he jumped up from his seat.

"What're you doing?" Dean asked. 

"Making sure we don't both end up in your predicament," Cas said. 

Dean was oddly satisfied to hear Cas confirm that he was capable of turning him on in that way. 

Cas paced back and forth along their row until Dean was ready to leave. 

They were the last ones to exit the theater. They walked out like two bros who had just seen the latest action movie, but Dean felt like everyone was staring at them, like everyone somehow knew what they were more than just friends, and his nervousness returned. He was just figuring all of this out for himself. He wasn't ready for it to be anyone else's business. 

They decided on the pizza place across the street and found a table in the corner. Cas sat down first, and Dean sat across from him. After they had ordered, Dean said, "I need you to know, there are still things I'm confused about. I care about you, a lot, and I'm definitely attracted to you." 

Cas put his hand over his mouth to stifle a laugh. "That was pretty obvious." 

"Yeah, yeah. Just wait. I'll make sure I return the favor." Dean tried to pretend he wasn't embarrassed, but he could feel the heat rising to his cheeks. "All I'm trying to say is, I know now that I'm not straight, but I don't think I'm gay either. I think I might be bi, and I need to make sure that's something you're okay with."

"All that matters is that I want to be with you, and you want to be with me," Cas said. 

"I do," Dean said without hesitation. 

As they ate, they discussed Dean's fear of other people knowing. Dean made sure that Cas knew he wasn't ashamed of him. He was mostly worried about how his dad might react. "He'll probably try to say you turned me gay," Dean told Cas. He wanted to be certain of everything before he talked to his dad, and that meant keeping things hidden from Sam, as well. Dean wanted to be the one to tell their dad. He didn't want him hearing about it from anyone else. Cas assured Dean that he understood, that they could keep everything hidden for as long as Dean needed. 

***

Taking things slow was easier said than done when they already lived together. There were a lot of _almosts_. They often had to go to separate rooms to cool down, which frequently meant handling things on their own. Sometimes Dean worried that Cas would get tired of having to wait, but any time he expressed this, Cas would reassure him that he didn't mind waiting. He wanted Dean to be certain he was ready.

Sometimes, when they were especially worked up, they would go for a run. They knew they were far too vulnerable to exposure out there in the neighborhood, so it would usually help them refocus. Most of the time, this would work. They would be too tired to move when they got back. But no plan is foolproof. Sometimes they would barely make it in the door before one of them pulled the other in again. This began happening more frequently, then one day Dean couldn't even make it back to the house. No matter how much he tried to distract himself, he kept dropping back to watch Cas until he couldn't handle it anymore, he had to kiss him. Certain Cas would follow, he passed him and disappeared behind the abandoned house a few blocks down from their house. When Cas came around the corner, Dean grabbed him and pushed him against the wall of the house. As they kissed, Dean rubbed himself against Cas. He could feel Cas growing hard through his gym shorts. This had happened before, several times, but this was the first time he'd managed to get Cas riled up outside of their house.

Dean took a step back and looked down, admiring his accomplishment. "I guess you could say this is payback for the theater." 

Cas leaned over, placing his hands on his knees, staring at the ground and panting as he said, "You have no idea-- the things I want-- to do to you-- right now." He insisted on running their route three more times after that. 

They didn't know it then, but that was the tipping point. They kept pushing the boundaries further and further, but there was still something that always stopped them. Dean wasn't even sure what he was waiting for, what he needed, but he knew he hadn't found it yet. 

One night Cas was helping Dean cook dinner, and every time he looked over at Cas, he would forget what he was doing or what they were talking about, until he finally decided he was going to ignore his reservations and give in to his desires. He held Cas against him as they kissed. Cas slowly walked Dean backward until he was pressed against the counter. Dean ran his fingers along the top of Cas' pants, then started to unbutton them. 

Cas leaned back and said, "You don't have to do that." 

Dean knew he didn't, but he was tired of listening to the voice that told him to wait. He put his hand on Cas' face and pulled Cas' lips back to his and unbuttoned Cas' pants. Just as he was about to slide his hand in, Dean smelled the smoke. They quickly untangled themselves and scrambled to find a way to put out the small fire on the stove. Cas went for water, but Dean grabbed the lid and dropped it over the pot, smothering the flames until they were extinguished. 

A quick assessment revealed that nothing had burned except their dinner. They looked at each other for a moment as the panic faded, then they burst into laughter. 

After opting to go out for dinner instead of attempting to burn the house down again, they went for a run, then settled down on the couch to watch a movie. Cas put his arm around Dean, and Dean rested his head against Cas. Every so often, Cas would run his fingers through Dean's hair or lean over to gently kiss the top of his head. Dean used his finger to draw lazy circles on Cas' leg. Everything was calm and quiet. This was the first time they had really taken the time to appreciate the connection they had. Dean suddenly felt an overwhelming sense of peace. This is what he needed, to understand their connection, not just act on it. To realize what he and Cas had wasn't some satiable infatuation that could be filled by sex. To be certain that his desire to be with Cas was not fueled by the heat of the moment, but by something much deeper. To know that they had something more to offer each other. 

They stayed wrapped around each other even after the movie ended and the menu screen had reappeared. "We should get to bed," Cas finally said. 

Dean didn't want to move, but Cas was right. They both had to work the next morning, and it was already late. He slowly drug himself away from Cas, hanging on to every last second. 

He should have been tired, but he kept tossing and turning. His eyes wouldn't stay closed. He was wide awake and thinking about Cas, about how he wanted to be back in Cas' arms, about how badly he wanted to _be_ with Cas now that he fully understood how he felt about him, about how he had spent so much time imagining other men in Cas' room but had never imagined himself in there, about how he didn't want to just imagine it, about how he didn't want to wait any longer.

As Dean slid out of bed, he considered putting a shirt on, but decided against it. Wearing only his flannel pajama pants, his bare feet tapped against the cold floor, echoing throughout the quiet house. He expected Cas to be asleep, but when he knocked on the door, Cas immediately responded with, "It's unlocked." 

Dean opened the door and leaned against the frame. "Hey." 

"Hey," Cas said as he put his phone down on the nightstand.

Anytime they had even come close to being together, they had always been somewhere else. The living room, the kitchen, the bathroom, somewhere outside of the house, but never in either of their bedrooms. "Can I come in?"

Cas pushed himself up in the bed and quietly said, "Of course."

Dean shut the door behind him and made his way to Cas' bed. Standing next to Cas, he reached down and put his hand on Cas' face, softly rubbing his thumb along Cas' cheek. 

Cas' voice was almost breathless when he said, "You couldn't sleep either?"

"No," Dean said. 

Cas grabbed Dean's hand and pulled him down to the bed. 

Rather than their usual frantic desperation, each move they made was slow and cautious, as if they were afraid they might break each other. 

Neither of them dared to breathe as Dean removed Cas' shirt. He trailed his hands down Cas' chest, committing every inch to memory.

Cas leaned back on the bed and pulled Dean on top of him, their bare chests pressed together, their heartbeats racing against each other. 

Cas gently turned, switching places so that he was leaning over Dean. Carefully, he slid his hand over Dean's stomach. Dean's entire body tensed as Cas ran his fingers along the waistband of Dean's pants. He leaned back, looking Dean in eye. Dean was sure the deep blue was going to swallow him whole. He sucked in a sharp breath and nodded his head. 

Cas slid his hand in, taking Dean into his hand. Dean buried his head in Cas' neck, kissing him softly, trying--and failing--to keep the whimpers from escaping his mouth. Cas' hand was soft but strong. Each stroke sent lightning surging through Dean's veins. Within minutes, his muscles were twitching under Cas. If they stayed like this, if Cas continued, this would be over far too soon.

In one swift motion, Dean flipped Cas underneath him. Cas smiled up lazily and put his arms behind his head, giving Dean free roam of his body. Dean planted delicate kisses on Cas' neck, across his shoulder, over his chest, down his stomach. Then he slid Cas' boxers down his legs. Cas gripped the pillow in his hands as Dean took him into his mouth. Dean moved slowly at first, not sure what to do with his teeth, his tongue, his lips, but he knew he'd found his rhythm when Cas was squirming on the bed and mumbling incoherently. 

Finally, Cas pushed himself up and put his hand on Dean's face, stopping him. As Dean look up at him, Cas took Dean's hand and pulled him up on the bed. They sat facing each other, their breathing fast and rough. Cas ran his hands along Dean's legs, around his hips, up his back, then he leaned Dean back on the bed and slowly removed his pants. 

Dean knew what Cas was doing, what he wanted, and Dean was ready. He followed Cas' lead, allowed Cas to prepare him, to make sure this wouldn't hurt him. With how carefully slow Cas was moving, Dean was sure Cas was teasing him. He was practically begging when Cas finally pushed in. Dean's breath caught in his throat and he tightened his grip around Cas' body. 

Cas moved cautiously at first, giving Dean's body time to relax. "Do you want me to stop?" Cas whispered.

Dean shook his head against Cas' shoulder. 

Cas turned his head, pressing his lips against Dean's ear. "Then you have to remember to breathe. Relax. I've got you."

Dean took a few deep breaths, willing his muscles to relax with each movement Cas made. Soon the tension faded and Dean was moving with Cas, positioning himself so Cas could go deeper. They writhed against each other until Dean was sure even his bones were tingling. 

Dean was the first one to fall. Cas held him, attempting to carry him through it as every vein in his body was flooded with fire, but this only pushed Cas over the edge. He dug his fingers into Dean's neck, his eyes rolling back as his entire body pulsed. 

Cas rolled over onto the bed and pulled Dean against the warmth of his body. Dean tangled his leg over Cas', draped his arm across Cas' stomach, and laid his head against Cas' chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heart. He was certain, with every fiber of his being, this was where he belonged, who he belonged with. Cas was right--labels, inexperience, other people's reactions, none of that was important. All that mattered was that they wanted to be with each other. Dean knew this was only the beginning of something he never wanted to end.


End file.
